


Mirrormaze

by still_lycoris



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Angst, Awkward Conversations, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 20:32:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1278010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake and Avon are trapped in an underground maze. Blake doesn't like it at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirrormaze

Blake was normally very patient when it came to mishaps on missions.

You had to be. It was a difficult life they were living, there were all sorts of risks, all sorts of problems you could run into when you were trying to fight the evils of the Federation. He was willing to chance them all, put up with almost anything if he could just continue, if he could just know that he was going to win.

Today’s mission had gone wrong. Not seriously wrong – he and Avon were still alive and unhurt, that was something. More than something, after what had happened to Gan. But they were cut off from the _Liberator_ and making their way through a rock maze that might never end.

And worse than that, the rock maze was reflective.

Blake turned another corner and jumped as he saw a thousand Blakes all jumping at the same time. A second later, they were all joined by a thousand Avons, all of whom were wearing the same lip-twisted expression of irritation.

“Another dead end?”

“No,” Blake said, trying to keep his voice upbeat and wishing he couldn’t see his lips moving all around him. “There, there’s a way through there. We’ll keep going.”

“We’re getting deeper,” Avon said.

“And then we’ll get out. Come on, Avon. I’m tired of standing here.”

“I wonder what makes these rocks so mirror-like?” Avon said, more to himself than to Blake. “They certainly are more reflective than anything that I’ve seen occurring naturally.”

Blake refused to answer. He ducked through a small a passage, trying not to look at the two Blakes ducking along either side of him. The passage opened out into another all, mirror-rock on the floor and ceiling as well as the walls.

“Eternity,” Avon murmured. 

“Yes,” Blake said dully. He really didn’t want to think about it. “Let’s try that way out.”

They kept walking. Hundreds of uneasy Blakes and infuriatingly calm looking Avons. Each time they ducked into another cave, he hoped this one would contain fewer of the mirrors and each time he was disappointed. Dammit, would they ever make their way out of this maze? The flickering reflections were hurting his eyes.

He turned a corner and thought he saw someone coming at him. Without thought, without planning, he whipped out his gun, firing just as Avon snarled “No!” in his ear. The rock exploded into shards and Blake jerked back, flinging up a protective hand. Pain lanced through his palm and when he looked at it, a chunk of rock was embedded there.

“You _idiot!_ ” Avon hissed, the anger in his voice and on his face belayed by the fact that he was cupping Blake’s hand gently, working at the shard with delicate fingers. “You shot your own reflection, you fool!”

Blake refused to apologise. He bit his lip, trying not to make any sounds of pain as Avon carefully pried the lump out, then pressed a patch of synthskin against it.

“It wasn’t too deep. You’re lucky you got your hand up in time or you might have been blinded. Or do you think your life would be easier if you could imitate Travis?”

“Shut up,” Blake muttered.

“You’re an idiot, Blake.”

“And you’re a liar!”

He immediately regretted the words, it wasn’t good to antagonise Avon, it was just that he was tired and frustrated. But there was no use him saying that. Avon’s eyes were glittering, he arched one eyebrow, his lip quirking.

“Am I now? An interesting proclamation, Blake. Care to explain?”

“No,” Blake said shortly. He tried to push past Avon, wanting to keep walking but Avon gripped his arm too tightly to let him escape.

“Why am I a liar, Blake? Or should I ask, what inspires you to bring this up now? Something psychological, perhaps? All these mirrors … do you think I might see my true self in there?”

“Would you know it if you saw it?”

He said it with the intent to antagonise but Avon didn’t look annoyed. He looked thoughtful.

“Well now. An interesting question. Would any of us know our true selves if we saw them?”

Blake didn’t what to philosophise. He didn’t want to have this damn conversation at all, he was furious at himself for starting it. But now it had begun, there didn’t seem any way out of it.

“You’d have a better chance than me,” he said bitterly.

Avon tilted his head, just a little. His eyes narrowed and Blake felt studied. He _hated_ it when Avon did this. The man had an ability to make you feel like you were a specimen under glass somewhere and Blake always found himself wanting to respond to it badly. He would have to resist the urge.

“We should keep moving,” he said and realised that walking wouldn’t help. All the mirrors would still reveal Avon’s studying gaze.

“Of course,” Avon said smoothly. “But I would like you to explain your statement as we do.”

Blake began to walk again, seeing his irritation reflected on hundreds of Blakes. Avon, of course, was showing no expression now. His gaze was smooth, only the slight narrowing of his eyes revealing that he was still studying Blake. Oh, that infuriating _blankness_ he put on.

“Go on, Blake,” Avon murmured. “Entertain me in this boring walk.”

Blake couldn’t stop himself – and therefore the legion – scowling.

“You’re lying right now,” he pointed out. “Pretending that you’re only mildly interested in whatever I have to say when in reality, you’re practically champing at the bit to get me to talk. Normally, you act as though you’d rather I never spoke.”

“Normally you don’t say anything nearly so interesting.”

“Is that how you really feel? Don’t answer, you’d only lie or hide the truth – as I’m sure you’re about to start arguing with me about what constitutes as a lie. You lie all the time, Avon. You hide things, probably even from yourself. You’ve chosen who you want everyone to think you are and that’s what you offer up in every circumstance, even if it means you hide everything from everybody.”

Avon didn’t answer. His expression didn’t change although Blake thought he saw the mouth tense for a moment. He shoved his way through another small passage and sighed when they entered yet another huge, mirrored hall.

“You get to _choose_ ,” he said bitterly, staring at the Blakes and the Avons that surrounded him. “You and all the others. Vila puts on that mask of being a drunken idiot so well that even he believes it half the time. Jenna pretends to be far colder than she is because she thinks it’s the way to survive. Cally … who knows about Cally? Maybe that’s her real face amongst a sea of people in disguises.”

“You are implying that you lack choice,” Avon said quietly.

“Of _course_ I lack choice! The Federation took me and they _changed_ me, Avon! Oh, I’m not caught up in their mindwipe now but you have no idea what it’s like. You don’t know what it’s like to wake up from a dream and to wonder if that was a real person you were dreaming about or just somebody your mind invented. You don’t know what it’s like to think that apples are your favourite food and then suddenly wonder if that’s the truth or if that’s just something somebody programmed into you! Do I even _like_ apples? Or is that something somebody made for me because it makes me into a better model citizen? Everything I do now is fighting against _that_ and I don’t know how much of it is real and how much _can_ be real!”

He stopped, aware that he was shouting, aware that his voice was echoing around the chamber and that Avon was staring at him, his expression politely blank as ever. Blake took a deep breath, wishing he could turn away and hide his face for a moment and knowing that he couldn’t. Instead, he just began to walk again, determined to get out of this place.

Slowly, the amount of mirror-rock began to lessen. He realised that he could hear a drip of water from somewhere close. The air felt fresher. They were almost free.

He was lifting his bracelet to his lips, ready to try and contact the _Liberator_ when Avon stepped up behind him and put his hand over it.

“Your thoughts are foolish, Blake.”

Furious, he twisted round, half-thinking of punching Avon in the face. Avon stared at him, hand still over Blake’s bracelet, surprisingly close.

“No human knows who they are,” he said quietly, dark eyes catching Blake’s own. “As you say, we form constructs for ourselves, put on our masks and offer them to the world, expecting people to accept them. And then we dismantle each others constructs and feel proud of ourselves for identifying the other person’s “true” face. We like to think we understand other people and therefore can understand ourselves. It’s meaningless, Blake. You are a construct of a thousand things. Why question the reason you like apples?”

“Because I will never know if it’s _true_.”

“There _is_ no truth, Blake! There is simply what _is_. Perhaps you will never know how much of your mask is based on what the Federation did to you but it’s still _your_ mask.”

Blake stared at him, at those fathomless dark eyes. He wondered what Avon was thinking of him now. Judging him for his doubts? Scorning him for the stupidity he was doubtless sure Blake was displaying? Or something else, something deeper and more complicated? 

It didn’t matter. Avon would never tell him.

Avon removed his hand from Blake’s bracelet, stepped away from him, face cold and neutral. Blake sighed and put the bracelet to his mouth.

“Jenna?”

“Blake! We can just about hear you … ”

“We had some troubles. Can you get a teleport fix?”

“I think so.”

Blake closed his eyes and when he opened them again, he was standing in the teleport bay, Jenna and Vila both smiling at him. Without thinking about it, Blake fixed a smile on his face to direct at them, not wanting them to think he’d been ruffled by the night’s events. Behind him, Avon made a soft noise of amusement but Blake ignored it.

As Avon said, it was _his_ mask.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the b7friday prompt "Masks"


End file.
